


Just The Two Of Us

by WaywardLiliana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angelic Grace, Angst and Feels, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Dean, Canon Universe, Dean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx Mixtape, Eventual Smut, First Time Blow Jobs, Grieving Dean, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Season/Series 12, Sandwich, Season/Series 12 Spoilers, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-02-07 18:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardLiliana/pseuds/WaywardLiliana
Summary: Dean grieves for Cas, and remembers all the times they got close, but not close enough.





	1. With Sammy

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be my first fic, until I had to write a coda for 13x01. I need to thank my wonderful friends, Pinkmink, tricia_16, and Harpless, who beta'd this for me. You are the wind beneath my wings. I couldn't have done it without you. <3

Dean tries to remember the last time he shaved or even took a shower.

_Whatever. It doesn’t matter._

He’s been lying on his bed, staring at the walls of his bedroom for so long that the days just bleed into each other. Occasionally his eyes flicker to the unopened bottle of syrupy brown liquor on his bedside table. Dean can’t remember the last time he even had a drink. Not since…

He pushes the image out of his mind.

He also can’t sleep. Sleeping only brings bloody nightmares. Instead, Dean searches for good memories. There aren’t a lot. After all, his life hasn’t exactly been charmed. More like cursed. But there are a few bright spots that he clings to. Gripping Baby’s solid steering wheel under his hands, feeling the roar of her engine as he and Sam sing Bon Jovi at the top of their lungs. Watching nerdy movies in the bunker with Charlie, Sam, and…Cas. He can never completely avoid thinking about Cas.

He tortures himself with the memory of Cas’s touch. The handprint that used to be seared into his shoulder. How it hummed with unknowable energy whenever Cas was close. The feel of Cas’s dirty trench-coat that Dean kept in the trunk of every stolen car he and Sam had driven after Cas died. Cradling it in his arms when he knew Sam wasn’t looking. Cas pulling them both into an awkward double hug after he came back. The shock of being flush against the angel’s body. Things between them had always been so complicated.

But Cas’s touch had never been complicated. The gentle way he used to heal Dean, taking more time and care than he did with anyone else. Dean had hungered for that touch, reaching out for Cas whenever he could get away with it, as if some invisible force were pulling his fingertips toward the angel’s skin. He radiated solid warmth, and Dean had never felt anything so comforting in his life. But like everything on his highlight reel, the memory of the first time they hugged was tinged with pain. Cas had hugged him and then disappeared. 

The cold creeps back into Dean’s stomach, and he grasps desperately for the next memory, trying not to drown in the blackness.


	2. With Benny

Some of Dean’s favorite memories are from Purgatory. Slashing and slicing monsters with Benny felt good, pure. Back then, he had one single purpose - find Cas and get them all out. A year passed before he finally did. Dean can recall seeing Cas crouching by the stream in filthy scrubs and that familiar trench-coat. His gut had flipped, which at the time seemed like a weird reaction. Dean remembers how he couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot. He closes his eyes, and watches himself chuckle softly and throw his arms around Cas, slotting his face into the crook of the angel’s neck.

Dean hadn’t wanted to let Cas go, nearly crushing him in his arms, trying not to be hurt when Cas didn’t hug him back. He replays the scene in his mind, seeing himself reach out and softly rub his finger over the angel’s short beard.

“Damn it’s good to see you. Nice peach fuzz.”

Dean thinks of how good Cas looked in Purgatory, somehow the washed-out brown of the forest made his eyes shine even more piercingly blue. How good it might have felt to have the angel’s beard rubbing against the soft skin of his stomach, while those bluer than blue eyes stared up at him.

_Shit. Get it together._

He focuses instead on the adorably confused face Cas had made at him as they stood next to the stream. Dean remembers how angry he was when Cas told him he had been running away, and curses himself for not thanking Cas for being his guardian angel all along. 

_Not that I ever deserved it._

He remembers practically begging Cas to stay.

“Cas, buddy, I need you.”

“Lemme bottom line it for you. I’m not leaving here without you, understand?”

_How pathetic was that._

He forces his thoughts in another direction, knowing that if he keeps punishing himself, he might never get out of bed again. He needs to clear his head. And there’s one easy way to do that. He imagines being alone with Cas. Touching the angel’s face back in Purgatory had sent a pulse of desire straight to his dick. 

_It’s ok. No one will know._

The memory of Cas’s smell is still strong, a strange heady combination of pine tree and thunderstorm. Dean reaches down between his legs and closes his eyes. Imagines he’s leaning forward to kiss Cas, feeling the short hairs of the angel’s beard tickling his lips. The familiar girth of his cock grows as Dean wraps his hand around it, and imagines running his tongue across Cas’s lips. He fumbles for the bottle of Astroglide in his bedside table, needing to move things along. Dean slicks up his palm and gasps at the feel of wetness on his cock, speeding up his strokes as he feels Cas eagerly return the kiss, grabbing Dean’s hips and pressing his own erection against Dean’s.

Dean’s breaths start coming in ragged gasps. The kiss is desperate, their lips, tongues, and teeth crashing together, Cas’s beard scraping and burning Dean’s face. Dean works his shaft harder and harder, getting closer to the edge. He’s sweating now, desire building in his gut as he imagines the sound Cas might make if Dean were to bite his bottom lip, somewhere between a moan and a growl. The thought of the angel’s gravelly voice groaning in pleasure sends another jolt straight to Dean’s cock. He moans out loud, squeezing his eyes shut to block out everything but Cas. Tiny drops of pre-come are leaking out, and Dean drags a fingertip across the slit, then brings it up to his tongue. He tastes only himself, but in this moment, it’s Cas he’s relishing. They collapse onto the rocky shore, bodies tangled up, thrusting frantically against each other, trying to find any friction. There’s nothing else, no one but the two of them.

Dean cries out in the dark as he comes. He hardly notices the tears running down his cheeks.


	3. With Sammy

A while later, Dean listlessly cleans himself up with a dirty t-shirt from the floor. Settling back into his usual position on the bed, he vaguely hopes Sam and Mom didn’t hear anything. But he can’t bring himself to care if they did. He’s afraid of letting his mind wander so he moves on to another memory – the next time he held Cas in his arms after Purgatory. Dean was under the influence of the Mark of Cain, and Cas had become human and died, again.

_Nope, better move right on from that one._

No use dwelling on one of the worst moments of his life. If only that had been the last time Cas had…

_Dammit, don’t go back there._

Dean reaches out to the other side of the bed and grabs an old pair of Men of Letters headphones. He puts them on, hits play on the cassette player next to him on the bed, and takes a shaky breath as the opening chords of _Wild Horses_ fill his ears.

_Childhood living is easy to do_  
_The things you wanted I bought them for you_  
_Graceless lady you know who I am_  
_You know I can't let you slide through my hands_

Dean thinks back to Cas calling to ask for help with his angel army. They hadn’t seen each other for months. He had walked straight into Cas’s waiting arms, but this time it was Cas who held Dean tightly, one arm over his shoulder, the other around his waist. And just like all the other times, they hadn’t been alone.

_Why didn’t I ever hug him when we were alone?_

Back then, something in him had already begun to change because of the Mark, nearly wiping out his feelings for Cas completely. Nearly swallowing him whole. Dean feels his chest tightening. He knows what’s coming next. He sees Cas sprawled on the bunker’s cold floor, bloody and broken. It had taken everything Dean had not to kill his best friend. 

He’s crying again.

_I know I've dreamed you a sin and a lie_  
_I have my freedom but I don't have much time_  
_Faith has been broken tears must be cried_  
_Let's do some living after we die_  
_Wild horses couldn't drag me away_  
_Wild, wild horses we'll ride them some day_

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean glimpses the small black shape lying next to the bottle on his bedside table. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to listen to it. It seems like such an empty gesture now. Cas had told him he loved him, and all Dean could do was make a stupid mixtape? He thinks about destroying it, but can’t. Cas had kept it with him wherever he went. Dean lashes out with his hand, swiping the mixtape across the room, where it lands with a clatter, hidden from view under his desk.


	4. With Sammy, Chuck, Crowley & Rowena

Dean wakes with a start. He can’t tell how much time has passed but at some point, Sam or Mom had come in and left a plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on it next to him. He ignores it and instead tries to recall what he’d been dreaming about. 

A peaceful cemetery in Kansas, pink petals falling lazily around him. Another time he had to say goodbye to everyone in his life and save the world. He closes his eyes again, feeling the soft early spring air.

The picture shifts and he’s driving the Impala with Cas riding shotgun.

_Why didn’t we do that more?_

Taking Cas on a pre-apocalypse beer run had been a pretty flimsy excuse to spend time with him. Dean hadn’t seen the real Cas for months. Only Lucifer’s twisted essence staring out from those impossibly blue eyes. There was so much he needed to say. But as usual, Dean had royally fucked that up too. He had tried, he really had. Dean told Cas he loved him the only way he knew how. Best friend. Brother.

_It wasn’t enough._

At least there was another chance to hold his angel close. Cas had pulled Dean into his arms, clinging to him desperately. Dean turns over in the bed and wraps his own arms around his waist, burying his face in the pillow, just as Cas had once pressed his face into Dean’s neck. There had been so many things he had wanted to say. But not with everyone there, not with God himself watching. And then Cas had said it.

“I could go with you.”

Still curled up on his side, Dean thinks about what Cas had meant by that. Was he really offering to commit suicide with Dean? Blaze of glory, right? Together at the end. But Dean’s big brother instincts had won out, like they always did. He had thought about Sam all alone in the world, without his brother, without his best friend. That had already happened to Sam once, and there was no way Dean was going to let it happen again. Instead, he had asked Cas to take care of Sam.

It was never the right time for him and Cas. And now it never would be. Dean digs his fingers into his sides until it hurts.

_Why didn’t I just let myself be happy?_


	5. With Mom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something for you eagle-eyed gag reel watchers in this one.

“Dean? Dean honey, you need to eat something.”

Mom is perched gingerly on the bed making her worried face. He must have dozed off again. Dean rushes to wipe any tell-tale tears from his cheeks but he’s pretty sure he’s not fooling her.

“Dean…” There’s a slightly exasperated edge to her voice, but as soon as Dean meets her eyes they go soft, and she reaches out to rest her hand on his arm.

“I will, Mom, I promise. I’m just not all that hungry right now.” Dean turns back towards the wall and hears her sigh. She pats his arm, opens her mouth to say something, but doesn’t.

He waits for her to leave before taking a bite of the now-stale sandwich. He can barely swallow it down. Fighting nausea, Dean crawls under the covers. The sight of his mother’s blonde waves and caring eyes brings back another memory.

This one’s more recent, and so clear in Dean’s mind that for a second he thinks he’s back in the bunker’s library, racing to stop his mother from shooting Cas. Blind panic trumped logic, something that didn’t usually happen to him. But when it came to Cas, Dean had always found it hard to keep his cool, especially when he got a glimpse of the look on Cas’s face when he saw Dean alive. Dean had turned towards Cas with his arms open, hoping to reassure him.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean remembers being nearly knocked off his feet when Cas threw his entire weight against him, burying his face in Dean’s jacket. 

“Dean!”

Cas had sounded so wrecked. Dean had caught Mom’s puzzled expression as Cas had clung to him. He was happy she was back, of course he was. But it was yet another time when there had been a witness to him and Cas getting close. He remembers comforting Cas, pressing his fingers into the dip under Cas’s shoulder blades, and again he caught that faint whiff of stormy forest, Cas’s scent, emanating from his skin, the whisper of raw power lying just below the surface. Dean had always been able to feel it, and he knew other people couldn’t. That must have meant something, but he’s not sure what.

Dean remembers Cas clinging to him with a new kind of neediness. Now he gets to his favorite part. He also felt something else – something hard poking his crotch. It had taken him a few seconds to figure out what was happening.

_Hell, it’s not like that ever happened before._

He had been so shocked he hadn’t been able to react. Not that he could have with his mom standing right there. But now, alone with his thoughts, Dean can admit how much it had turned him on to know Cas was attracted to him. He can finally think about how much he secretly loved the way Cas stared at him like he was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. How he used to pretend Cas’s personal space issues annoyed him, while secretly hoping Cas would never pick up on it and stop standing so close to him.

_Shit. And he got hard for me._

Cas wasn’t just loyal and devoted to Dean out of a sense of duty or brotherhood forged in battle. What they had went beyond that, and Dean can see that now. Plenty of demons and angels had commented on his and Cas’s relationship, their “profound bond”, as Cas himself had called it. But taking that last step had seemed so impossible. Being attracted to an angel was one thing…been there, done that in the backseat of the Impala. But Cas was…a dude.

Dean had no problem appreciating a hot guy. Not that he’d ever admitted it to anyone. Dean lets himself conjure up those eyes like sapphire pools, that sharp jawline, and imagines running his fingers through that thick black hair. Now that Dean is thinking about it, he might as well admit how many times he had wondered about the body hiding under that billowing trench-coat. But sexual attraction was one thing. This was so much more than that. How much human emotion did Cas actually feel? Was he even in control? Maybe his vessel had just reacted to feeling another body pressed against him. Dean never said anything about it. What would he have said, anyway?

“Hey buddy, remember when my mom almost shot you and then we hugged? I felt your dick getting hard, pal. I kinda liked it, but maybe we should talk before we do the nasty?”

Dean smiles ruefully as he imagines Cas’s confused head tilt.


	6. With Sammy & Mom

Dean shifts in bed and catches a whiff of himself. 

_Ugh. I stink to high heaven._ And immediately regrets his choice of words.

He pushes himself up and off the bed and the room spins. He takes a few seconds until the floor feels solid again and shuffles towards the door. Dean really doesn’t feel like facing Sam or Mom, so he pokes his head out carefully to check the coast is clear. He hears strains of indie chick music from the direction of Sam’s bedroom, and figures he can make it to the shower room undetected. The bunker’s empty hallways seem unfamiliar and alien and for a second Dean wonders how they ever called this place home.

In the shower stall, the cascade of scalding hot water makes him feel a little better. He rubs his skin with soap for a long time, until the combination of heat and friction gives it a pink tinge under the fluorescent lights. He closes his eyes, runs his hands over his face and hair, and is reminded of all the times he’s thought about fucking Cas in this shower…or imagined Cas getting down on his knees to suck him dry. His dick twitches but Dean doesn’t have the energy to go any further. Instead, he sinks down to sit on the cold white tile floor of the shower stall, and thinks of the last time he held Cas in his arms before he was gone.

Dean and Sam had escaped the secret prison they had been thrown into, but at a high price, just like always. As they emerged from the woods having kicked some soldier ass, Sam had seen Cas first and made a beeline for him. Dean watched and caught his breath as he realized how good it was to see them together again. Covered in dirt, sweat, and blood, Dean let Sam go to Mom first, and she was swallowed up in his giant embrace.

Dean staggered towards Cas. 

“Hey buddy.”

_Always with the “buddy”. Christ, I should’ve come up with a better nickname for him._

Cas never complained about it though. In that dark forest that could have become their grave, he had held Dean close. Dean drank in the warmth radiating from the angel’s body, and it felt like coming home. He let go but looked back to see Cas’s eyes shining with tears.

Dean had started to believe he and Sam would never get out of that hell hole. As he scratched lines into the concrete wall and counted the days they had been gone, he knew Cas and Mom would be frantic. Dean had tried praying to Cas, even though it wouldn’t help them escape. Praying to Cas had always calmed him down, so as the grey walls started to close in, Dean prayed.

“Cas? You got your ears on? Cas, buddy, we’re in trouble. I don’t think Sammy and I are gettin’ outta this one.”

“Cas, sorry to bring it up, but uh, man your wings would be pretty damn useful right about now.”

“Hey pal, I wish this prayer thing went both ways. I need to talk to you. This place…I feel like I’m losin’ it.”

“Castiel, angel of the Lord. Huh, that sounds kinda weird. Thought maybe if I used your angel name it might help the prayers get through. Not much news here. The food ain’t half bad. They haven’t hurt us, yet. Think they just want us to marinate for a while.”

“Cas, buddy, I need you.”

Eventually Dean and Sam both broke. Dean never asked Sam what made him willing to do the deal with Billie the reaper, and Sam never asked Dean. Dean’s not sure he could have come up with an answer, not without admitting the truth. That it was the thought of never staring into those bright blue eyes again that made Dean willing to trade his life for his freedom.

Dean realizes he’s shivering violently. The water has gone freezing cold.


	7. Just The Two Of Us

Back in his room, Dean rummages through his dresser to find the one clean pair of sweats he has left. He puts them on, looks at the dirty sheets on his bed, and doesn’t care enough to change them. He runs his fingers through his hair (Dean Winchester’s patented hair-drying technique, he used to smugly call it) and climbs back into bed. Dean sniffs and catches hints of soap and Sam’s fancy shampoo he loves to steal, and tries to recall Cas’s stormy scent. But it’s already fading. Dean worries he might forget it completely. 

He falls into a restless sleep, visions of black singed wing marks on sandy, rocky ground fading in and out of focus. He dreams of blue eyes staring straight into his soul. Dean’s back on the desolate beach under the starry sky. He pulls the lifeless angel into his lap, cradling his head and running fingers through his thick black hair. As Dean wraps his arms around Cas, he feels something silky soft under his fingertips. Suddenly the wing marks are gone, replaced by Cas’s actual wings. In Dean’s dream, they are inky black and massive. Dean gently strokes the small downy feathers closest to Cas’s back, and he’s never felt anything like it. He leans over and whispers unintelligible words into the angel’s unhearing ears, continuing to brush the velvety feathers until he feels a hand on his shoulder.

Dean wakes with a start. No one is touching him, but there’s a tentative knock on his door. Must be Sam or Mom coming to try and feed him again. He ignores it. The knock comes again. 

“Yeah,” he answers, his voice hoarser and lower than usual.

The door opens and Dean doesn’t move. He lies on his side, eyes still unfocused and unseeing.

“Hello, Dean,” A familiar voice rumbles from the doorway.

Dean is sure he’s drifted off and is having another nightmare. Footsteps tentatively approach the bed.

“Dean. It’s me. I’m here.” 

Dean feels a weight settle on the other side of the bed. He still doesn’t move. A hand lands softly on his shoulder, as if its owner is afraid the touch might scare him away.

“Dean, it’s Castiel. Please look at me.”

It takes every bit of strength Dean has left to roll over and meet that blue-eyed stare again. He rakes his gaze over the tan trench-coat, backwards tie, and back up to the mess of black hair. He suddenly jumps out from under Cas’s touch and ends up standing by the bed, staring in disbelief at the very alive angel tilting his head in confusion.

“No. This isn’t real. This is a dream,” Dean tells himself as he stumbles backwards. His head spins and he grips the desk behind him, trying to anchor himself as he realizes he got up far too quickly. His mouth is dry and he struggles to fill his lungs with air as he stares in shock at the figure across the room.

“Dammit, I guess I do need to eat something,” Dean grumbles, rubbing his eyes, trying to make the hallucination disappear.

But Cas doesn’t go away. His brows are knit together in an expression that Dean has seen a million times before.

“Dean.”

The way he says it is comforting, always has been, like it’s the most important word in the universe. Cas gets up from the bed and holds his hands out to Dean, slowly inching towards him. He finally ends up just inches away, and Dean has never minded the invasion of his personal space less. Cas is so close that Dean can feel the soft puff of breath on his cheek and see every detail of those beautiful blue eyes. 

Dean starts to tremble, and the lucid part of his brain tells him he has finally lost it. He’s so far gone that he’s having visions. Dean feels tears coming and reaches up to swipe them away before they start pouring down his cheeks. Cas gently grabs Dean’s wrist, brings it down between them, and clasps Dean’s hand.

He’s so warm.

“Dean. I’m here. This isn’t a dream and you’re not crazy.” Cas is now holding Dean’s hand in both of his. “I don’t know who brought me back, but I promise never to leave you again. You or Sam.”

Dean hears his brother’s name and shakes his head with a wry smile. This has got to be real. Only the real Cas would be boneheaded enough to bring Sam up at a time like this. This is it. This is his chance to make things right, after all the other times he got it wrong. Dean swallows his fear and brings his free hand up to the side of Cas’s face. Cas raises an eyebrow slightly at the touch but stays still, holding Dean’s bewildered gaze. Dean strokes the angel’s cheek with his thumb and moves closer, reveling in the electricity between them. Cas inhales sharply as Dean licks his lips and, without thinking, drags his thumb softly across Cas’s mouth. Dean smiles.

“Welcome home, buddy,” Dean says, and he can’t keep his voice from trembling with relief. Cas releases Dean’s hand, his eyes widening as Dean throws both arms around him and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. Dean buries his face in the angel’s neck and Cas’s arms wrap tightly around his waist. He breathes in the smell of a far-off thunderstorm, of wind whistling through pine trees. They stand pressed together for what seems like forever. Dean is home.

Dean can’t believe how good the real thing feels. And they’re finally alone. The world isn’t ending, nobody’s about to die. He can have what he wants. He pulls away enough to grab the sides of Cas’s face and quickly presses his lips to the angel’s. Cas is surprised for a split second but then responds, opening his mouth to Dean’s, and everything else disappears. Dean nibbles Cas’s bottom lip and apparently, he likes that because in response, Cas pushes Dean roughly against the desk. No one else is there to see this. It’s hungry, messy, and desperate. Later Dean plans on kissing every inch of Cas’s skin, exploring every hidden corner of his body, but this first kiss is an explosion. Dean smiles into it and grabs a fistful of Cas’s hair, pulling his head back and searching those blue eyes, pupils now blown wide with lust. Cas stays quiet, and returns Dean’s gaze with the same intensity he always has.

But something catches his eye and their familiar staring contest is over. Cas slowly moves away from Dean, shifting his focus down to the floor under the desk Dean is currently half-sitting on, struggling to catch his breath.

“Cas, buddy, please…” Dean can’t disguise the panic in his voice.

Cas bends down and for a second Dean can’t believe his luck. But no, an angelic blowjob is not in his immediate future, because Cas keeps going and reaches under the desk. He comes back up to face Dean, a small black rectangle held between his thumb and index finger.

“You kept it,” he says flatly.

“I couldn’t listen to it, but I couldn’t get rid of it either,” Dean admits, hating the feeling of his stupid face heating up.

“What was it doing on the floor, Dean?” Cas sounds more curious than anything else, so Dean decides to tell the truth.

“I haven’t been doin’ so good since…you know. And it reminded me of you and I was angry…” He trails off and looks down at the floor. Cas carefully places the mixtape on the desk, puts a finger under Dean’s chin, and gently pushes his head up until they lock eyes again.

“We’ll listen to it together, later.” Cas leaves that one word dangling, full of promise.

Dean takes it as a sign to keep going and meets Cas’s lips again, this time slowly relishing the soft movement of their lips and tongues against each other. Dean has never been kissed like this. It’s like being worshipped. Cas seems intent on communicating every unsaid word between them through this kiss. It feels like they are drowning in each other. No one is there to see Dean’s hands move from Cas’s head to his back, roving gently over the coiled muscles there. No one else hears Cas’s small contented sigh as they come up for air. No one is there to see Dean pull away slightly when he feels himself getting hard, and he worries he’s moving too fast. No one is there to see Cas pull Dean back towards him and start gently thrusting his own hips forward into Dean, searching for friction.

Just when Dean is starting to feel uncomfortably restrained by his sweats, Cas pulls away. Before Dean even knows what’s happening, he finds himself thrown roughly onto his back, his famous memory foam mattress giving way under his weight. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, and is about to protest, but obediently closes his mouth when he recognizes Cas’s expression. Dean used to call it Cas’s smitey face, and he shivers in awe, remembering the first time he saw this unearthly creature all those years ago in that rusty old barn.

Castiel paces slowly back and forth at the end of the bed. The air suddenly crackles and Dean can feel the hairs on his arms standing up. There’s a distant crash of thunder and the bedside lamp flickers. As Cas stalks in front of Dean, he begins to remove his clothing, piece by piece. First, goes the drab but beloved trench-coat, which he folds carefully over the back of Dean’s desk chair. Still pacing, and without ever taking his eyes off Dean, he loosens his haphazardly knotted tie, and begins to speak.

“I have been waiting a long time for this, Dean Winchester.” There’s something vaguely accusatory in his deep baritone, and apparently the angel’s voice gets even lower when he’s turned on. Dean can tell Cas is just barely keeping himself under control. The wrinkled blue tie gets placed delicately on top of the trench-coat, Cas’s long fingers brushing over the smooth fabric.

“I have been alive for eons. I have seen civilizations rise and fall. I am capable of endless patience.” Dean feels a whisper of fear seeing Cas like this, but apparently his dick doesn’t mind because it is straining against his sweats as Cas begins to unbutton his crisp white dress shirt. Dean has to fight the urge to touch himself – he instinctively knows that Cas has to say his piece before anything else can happen. When Cas finishes the agonizingly slow process of removing his shirt and discards it carelessly on the floor, apparently bored with being tidy, he stops in front of where Dean is sprawled on the bed. He positions himself between Dean’s legs, and with Cas looming over him, Dean worries about coming in his pants before they even get started.

Dean stares up at the expanse of naked golden flesh tantalizingly out of reach, zoning in on Cas’s hip bones and desperately wanting to see where they end under his waistband. Dean licks his lips without thinking, then moves his eyes up to the spot where Cas’s heart beats in his chest, so very alive. Finally, he drags his eyes up to meet Cas’s, and they’re even more blue than he remembers. He feels completely naked under their laser focus. 

“Waiting for you to finally make your move - these last few years have been the longest in my entire existence.” And with that, there’s another crash of thunder, and Dean gasps as his eyes are drawn to the wall behind Cas. There they are – huge dark shadows splayed across the entire span of the bedroom, extending out from Cas’s back as he stares down at Dean. The angel has his wings back, and they are the most beautiful things Dean has ever seen.

Dean’s completely involuntary response is to break out his patented sexy smirk. Cas raises an eyebrow and Dean chuckles nervously, cursing his flirting instincts for responding to this badass angel display the same way they would to a wink from a cute waitress. Dean pushes himself up on his elbows, hoping he can break the tension with a joke. 

“See, all you had to do was die a few times and here I am, ready and willing.”

Dean smiles his most charming smile, holds his breath, and waits. And then, it comes. The tiniest twitch upwards at the corner of Cas’s mouth, what passes for one of his rare smiles. The wing shadows disappear, the air in the room abruptly stills. He reaches out, puts his hand on Dean’s chest, and pushes him back down, this time climbing onto the bed between the hunter’s legs. Cas makes quick work of removing Dean’s multiple shirts, and dives down for another searing kiss, both of them gasping at the shock of feeling their bare chests pressed together. They collapse in a heap of tangled limbs and thrusting hips. Panting, Dean goes for Cas’s belt buckle, and there’s a question in his eyes. Cas nods. Of course.

It’s just the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is. Thank you so much for reading - I hope you enjoyed it. I have been informed by my esteemed betas that this fic ends in a somewhat unsatisfactory place. The truth is I like this ending, but I'm also scared to write smut. However, if people are interested, I might be convinced to try my hand at a smutty epilogue. <3


	8. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-resurrection sex is the best kind ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first real sex scene and I have to thank Pinkmink and tricia_16 for lending their invaluable expertise. Eye contact is everything with these two! ;)  
> I hope this ending is more satisfying than the first one...

Dean feels like he’s drowning. Cas is all around him - everywhere - overwhelming his senses, setting a breakneck pace, and Dean’s having trouble keeping up. He can hardly believe the desperate, hungry creature writhing on top of him is the same shy and reserved friend he’s known for nearly a decade. He looks down just to be sure and is greeted by an eyeful of tousled black hair, sharp cheekbones, and, when Cas notices Dean’s looking at him, eyes normally the color of topaz swallowed up by black lust-filled pupils. Yes. It’s definitely Cas who’s been sucking Dean’s cock for the last ten minutes.

“Is everything alright, Dean?” Cas pants through swollen, wet lips.

“Uh, yeah, buddy, more than alright. Just...can’t believe you’re actually here.” Dean smiles weakly.

“Is the oral sex not enough evidence?” Cas actually looks concerned and Dean stifles a laugh.

“Maybe you should keep going. Just so I’m totally convinced.”

“Of course, Dean.” And he does. Dean briefly thinks he’ll have to ask Cas later how he got so good at blow jobs when suddenly any other coherent thoughts are obliterated by the sensation of Cas taking him deep into his mouth. Dean makes an unrecognizable sound as his cock is enveloped in silky heat. Cas uses his tongue to lick from the base of Dean’s cock right to the head before swallowing his length down again, and this time Dean can feel the tip of his cock pushing against the back of Cas’s throat. It’s too much, too fast, and he cries out.

“Unnghh Cas - buddy, that’s so good but I’m gonna come!”

Cas slowly lifts his mouth off of Dean’s cock and raises an eyebrow. “Yes, Dean, I believe that is the objective.”

“Yeah, but just hang on, okay? We’re not in a hurry. Besides,” Dean grins, “it’s your turn.” With that, Dean pushes himself up and motions for them to switch places. 

Cas looks doubtful. “Dean, I’m aware of your usual sexual preferences and you might not be comfortable-”

“Shut up, angel. I wanna do this for you. Gotta make sure you’re real, remember?”

Cas seems to accept Dean’s logic and lies down where Dean had just been, allowing Dean to pull his suit pants and boxers all the way off. It’s the first time Dean is able to see Cas’s cock clearly, and even though it’s a little weird at first to be looking at another dude’s junk so closely, Dean quickly starts to appreciate it. After all, it belongs to Cas.

Dean’s never sucked a dick before (although he figures he’s been on the receiving end enough times to figure it out) so he has to work his way up to it. He starts by kissing Cas’s lips, still warm and slick from being wrapped around Dean’s cock, and works his way down Cas’s neck, stopping to swirl his tongue around both pink nipples, which extracts an incredibly dirty groan from deep in Cas’s chest. Dean breathes Cas’s scent in deeply, smelling of mountain forests and fresh rain. Encouraged, Dean keeps kissing his way down to the soft skin of Cas’s stomach, and is surprised when he giggles. Pretty sure he’s never heard that sound before, Dean looks up at him.

“You ticklish, angel?”

Cas looks down at Dean, a bemused smile on his face. “It would appear so.”

“Good to know.”

Dean can’t put it off any longer. He wraps one hand tentatively around Cas’s warm, erect cock and watches as the angel inhales sharply. Dean starts by licking lightly around the tip, and when he gets used to that feeling, gently fits his mouth over the firm head of Cas’s cock. He moves his head slowly up and down, being careful not to catch his teeth on Cas’s skin. Again, he waits to get used to the feeling, before speeding up a bit and using his tongue to apply pressure on the underside of Cas’s cock. Cas reacts by burying his fists in the sheets and thrusting his hips upwards into Dean’s mouth. Dean’s not ready for it and gags a little. He lifts his head up and coughs.

Cas’s head snaps up and he looks at Dean apologetically. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. It felt so good.”

Dean chuckles. “S’okay, Cas, just wasn’t expecting it. Try and hold still for me.”

Cas nods and relaxes back into the pillows. This time Dean uses his hand to jerk Cas off while licking and caressing his cockhead with his mouth. The new technique has Cas squirming in pleasure but he manages to keep from thrusting into Dean’s mouth, so Dean decides to go for it and swallow Cas’s entire length down, as far as he can go, breathing through his nose and controlling his gag reflex. He’s feeling pretty proud of himself when Cas lets out a strangled cry. 

“Dean!”

Dean slowly pulls his lips up Cas’s shaft and gives the tip of his cock one last lick before crawling up his body and giving him the dirtiest kiss he can, licking into his mouth and hoping Cas can taste himself on his tongue. They’re both completely naked now and it feels so good to finally be able to touch all of Cas’s golden skin, wherever he wants, as much as he wants. Dean’s cock is throbbing with need, and he sucks in a breath as Cas reaches down between them to grip Dean’s cock. Dean starts thrusting into Cas’s hand and he can feel delicious heat pooling between his legs.

“Cas, wait-”

Dean looks down at his best friend, lying beneath him, and there’s a new wildness in Cas’s eyes. Dean has admired his unearthly beauty for years, but seeing him like this, wrecked and coming undone with desire, he’s completely transformed. Cas has been hungrily kissing Dean like he wants to devour him, letting Dean fuck his hand with abandon, doing all these intensely human things, and Dean is reminded that Cas isn’t human at all. And he was just dead.

Gone. 

Forever. 

Dean is overpowered by the whiplash of emotions he has experienced in just the past few hours. He lost Cas, but now he’s back - and after everything - naked in Dean’s bed. It’s too much. He stops thrusting.

Cas looks up at him, brows creased with worry. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

“Cas, I-” Tears are suddenly threatening to spill from Dean’s eyes and his cock is softening. “I thought I lost you…”

“Ssshhhh...Dean. I’m here.” Cas reaches up to caress Dean’s hair. “Let me take care of you. Let me help you forget.”

Cas maneuvers Dean so that’s he’s lying on his back again. Cas hovers over him, covering his body with soft kisses. Dean feels light flutters of warmth on his collarbone, on the smooth skin of his shoulder, where Cas pauses and fits his hand over the now absent scar, and then down the inside of Dean’s thigh, as his breathing returns to normal and he blinks the tears away. Cas takes Dean’s half-hard cock in his hand and strokes it gently. His other hand caresses Dean’s balls and then moves one finger down slowly, further and further, until it reaches the spot between Dean’s legs. He stops there and looks up.

“Dean. I would very much like to…” Cas seems a little embarrassed, as he searches for the right word. Dean decides to help him out.

“...fuck me?”

Unbelievably, given what they’ve just been doing, Cas’s cheeks flush.

“Yes, Dean. But only if you want me to.”

Dean reaches over with one hand to open the drawer of his nightstand. Right where he left it a few hours ago is the bottle of lube. He’s a little surprised at how okay he is with this. He’s never done it before, but he trusts Cas absolutely. And he wants to be closer to him, to be reassured by him, to belong to him. Apparently, his dick agrees because it’s fully erect and throbbing again. He holds out the lube to Cas.

“I want you to,” Dean whispers. He feels a little shy suddenly, spread-eagled on the bed, vulnerable and with nowhere to hide.

It’s as if Cas can read his mind. He keeps his hand on Dean’s cock, pumping it slowly, and traces his finger around Dean’s asshole as he speaks, always maintaining that intense eye contact that makes Dean feel like he’s the most important person in the universe.

“Dean, you are...the most pleasing human specimen I have ever seen. When I first saw your soul in Hell, it was shining brighter than any other. And when I put your body back together, I didn’t know it then, but I was meant to worship you. Please...let me.”

Those bluer than blue eyes are boring right into Dean’s, silently asking him a question. Dean swallows down his nerves and nods. Cas puts a small amount of lube on his finger and starts to drag it slowly around the edge of Dean’s hole. It’s a little strange, but pleasurable, and Dean starts to relax. Cas keeps one hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it gently while his finger massages gently into Dean. It slips past the ring of muscle and he stops moving.

“Is this alright, Dean?”

“Uh, yeah. Feels a little weird but not bad.”

“Please tell me if anything hurts. I’ll go slowly.”

Cas slowly inches his finger further and further inside Dean, the lube helping to reduce the friction. While he’s doing this, he holds Dean’s gaze, never wavering. Dean’s eyes flick to Cas’s hand on his cock, then back to those ocean blue eyes. Cas moves his finger in and out slowly until Dean is used to it, and then he adds another finger. Dean feels stretching and a tiny bit of burn, but nothing he can’t handle. Then Dean is treated to the mind-blowing sight of Cas putting his mouth on Dean’s cock, licking and sucking the head as his fingers slide in and out of Dean’s ass. Cas is still staring at Dean, and he thinks it might be the hottest thing he’s ever seen. His heart is racing.

Bit by bit, Dean adjusts to the strange fullness inside him and it almost starts to feel good. Cas stops to get more lube and adds another finger. Dean begins to whimper as he feels himself expanding more and more, and he starts shamelessly thrusting his hips down into the mattress, onto Cas’s fingers. Once Cas has three fingers deep inside, he curves them back and they brush against something, sending a shot of pleasure straight to Dean’s dick. He practically yelps and can’t keep himself from babbling, begging even, for more.

“Cas - please - need you - unghh - wanna feel you -”

Cas carefully pulls his fingers out and Dean hates how empty it feels. But then he sees Cas take his own thick cock in his hands and cover it with lube and the anticipation has Dean’s dick practically pulsating. Cas leans over Dean, motioning for him to lift his legs up towards his chest, and braces himself with his left hand next to Dean’s shoulder, nudging his cock gently against Dean’s ass. The angel stays completely still, and again, stares into Dean’s eyes. Dean can actually see Cas working to keep himself under control. He’s breathing fast and every muscle is straining under his glistening skin.

“Dean. Are you sure you want this?”

Dean lifts his head up and kisses Cas once, softly, on the lips.

“More than anything.” With that, Dean reaches both hands down to grab Cas’s ass cheeks, and pulls him forward. The head of Cas’s cock pushes past the tight rim of muscle and when he’s just barely inside, Cas stops again, waiting for Dean to relax. But this time, his eyes are squeezed shut and he seems to be holding his breath.

“Cas, you okay?”

The few seconds before he answers feel like an eternity to Dean. Dean stops thinking about the fact that there’s a dick in his ass and starts to worry something is wrong. But Cas finally opens his eyes, and when he does, Dean is taken aback by the emotion he sees in them. The angel’s blue eyes are shining brightly, and Cas’s arms, now braced on either side of Dean, are shaking. But then one corner of his mouth lifts, and Dean can breathe again.

“Yes, Dean. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Cas pushes himself into Dean, bit by bit, agonizingly slowly. Dean keeps his eyes locked on Cas’s, where he sees love, devotion, and something new, possessiveness. Dean revels in feeling claimed by this otherworldly being, a creature as majestic and ancient as the universe, who at that moment is closer to Dean than anyone has ever been. They’re joined together, Cas’s cock solid and hot and filling Dean up completely. Once Cas is buried deep inside him, he waits for Dean’s body to relax around him.

“Dean.” His voice is so low at this point that Dean can barely hear him.

“Yeah, Cas?” Dean is so overwhelmed by new sensations that he’s finding it hard to talk.

“You feel...amazing. This is...so much...are you alright?” Cas’s facial expression moves from ecstasy to concern.

“Yeah, Cas, I’m good. But I really need you to start movin’.” Dean squeezes Cas’s ass to emphasize his point. So Cas starts to slowly pull out, and Dean can tell he’s holding himself back - which he’s grateful for because he’s never had a dick in his ass - but a few gentle thrusts later and Dean’s ready for more. Cas starts a slow rhythm and Dean thrusts his own hips up in time to meet him. Cas keeps his eyes on Dean, watching him attentively for any sign of pain or discomfort. But there’s only the sweet fullness of Cas’s cock inside him. 

Once he’s reassured that he’s not hurting Dean, Cas goes back to kissing him, their mouths and tongues sliding together. They’re both breathing hard, and in between the kisses, Cas whispers unintelligible words in Dean’s ear as he fucks deeper and deeper into him. It could be Enochian but it doesn’t matter - Cas’s hot breath in his ear sends fire straight to Dean’s already straining cock, which is starting to feel uncomfortably hard between their bodies. Dean releases Cas’s ass and goes to grab his cock but Cas swats his hand away.

“Please, Dean. Let me.”

Dean obeys, lifting his hands up to grab the headboard above him, needing something to keep him grounded. Cas puts his hand between their sweat-covered bodies and grabs hold of Dean’s cock. The feeling is almost too much for Dean, and when Cas changes the angle of his thrusts to hit that sweet spot he found earlier with his fingers, and starts jerking off Dean’s cock in time with each thrust, Dean knows he isn’t going to last much longer.

“Cas - you’re gonna make me - I can’t-unnggghhh” Cas’s head whips up and he fixes Dean with that laser stare of his.

“Hold on, Dean.” Dean tightens his grip on the headboard and braces himself. Cas’s thrusts get faster and more forceful, and Dean lets himself be taken to the brink by this untamed being, who has never seemed more like something from another world as in this moment. He’s beautiful, Dean thinks to himself, drinking in the sight of Cas’s wild black hair, flushed cheeks, and luminous skin. As Cas pounds into that spot, over and over, the headboard bangs the wall behind it, and pressure grows in Dean’s belly, building and building until he has to let go. 

“CAS!” Thick liquid spurts out of Dean’s cock onto his stomach and over Cas’s hand. Cas’s thrusts get more erratic and through the haze of his fading orgasm, Dean feels Cas’s body lock up. He makes one last massive push, burying himself in Dean. Cas practically growls as he sinks into Dean’s neck and rides out his orgasm, hot cum spurting inside of Dean. Then the angel’s arms give out and he collapses, gasping, onto Dean’s chest. When he finally lifts his head, Dean is startled to see a faint bluish-white light glowing in Cas’s eyes. The lights in the room are flickering, and Dean can feel the hairs on his arms standing up.

“Hey buddy, what’s with the eyes?” Cas slips out of Dean, and with a wave of his hand, the sticky mess clinging to their skin is gone. He pushes himself off of Dean and lies on his back, staring at the ceiling and panting.

“I believe my grace was reacting to our love-making. I didn’t know that was going to happen.” He turns on his side to face Dean, studying the hunter’s face like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

“Ok, just...don’t ever call it that again, man. But I guess it must’ve been pretty good, huh?” Dean turns his megawatt smile towards Cas.

“Yes, Dean. It was...pretty good.” There’s a hint of mischief in Cas’s eyes that Dean has never seen before and warmth wells up inside him. He reaches out to stroke Cas’s face and marvels again that just a few short hours ago, he had been drowning himself in grief for his angel, and now he’s right here, in Dean’s bed, having just fucked his brains out.

“Uh, y’know words are not really my thing. But it’s good to have you back, Cas.”

“It’s good to be back, Dean.”

Cas gets up and walks over to the desk, giving Dean ample opportunity to check out his ass since he hasn’t bothered to put on any clothes. It’s firm and rounded and Dean can’t believe it’s been hiding under that damn trench coat all this time. He’s opening his mouth to say exactly that when Cas turns around, and Dean sees what he’s got in his hand. The mixtape.

Cas looks hopeful, and a little shy. “Can we listen to it now?”

Dean looks at the angel, his angel, and feels a tightening around his heart. He pushes himself up into a sitting position and leans back against the headboard. He grabs the tape player and pats the space on the bed next to him.

“Yeah, buddy. C’mere.”

Cas climbs into the bed next to Dean. He gets as close as he possibly can, so that their legs are touching from hip to ankle, and pulls the bedding up around them. Dean inserts the cassette into the player and presses play. Cas rests his head on Dean’s shoulder and holds out his left hand between them. Dean grasps it and laces their fingers together as the opening chords of Led Zeppelin’s _Thank You_ fill the room. Dean turns his head to breathe in the comforting piney smell of Cas’s hair, and closes his eyes.

_If the sun refused to shine_  
_I would still be loving you._  
_When mountains crumble to the sea,_  
_There will still be you and me._

It’s just the two of them.


End file.
